Sickle's Sweet
by Lukagamine
Summary: He was an arrogant, rude, narcissistic pop idol. She was a kind, sweet, selfless music composer. Could these two radically different spirits ever get along? Maybe, who knows? Time's the only teller in this story.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Uta No Prince Sama! **

**Rating: T**

**Pairings: Nagi x Nanami**

**I'm not even too sure where I came up with this. Oh right- how there is a gaping hole in the Nagi section of Uta No PrinceSama. That's right. He's a jerk, but he's a cute jerk.**

* * *

Spring was a wonderful time of the year. It was the birth of something new; it was the age where the cold and harsh winters melted away, and made paths for a luscious new era. It's not surprising that a lot of lives are born in the spring, as well. They join the flowers in their budding and blooming. Fourteen years ago, a certain little boy was born in a hospital.

Nagi Mikado.

His parents were two people to which if you met them in real life, you'd wonder how anyone like them could have children. They were insensitive and disrespectful, talented and arrogant elitists. Both of them had passion for music, and they'd strive towards that goal in all attempts, sacrificing more than just their time.

The thought of such people giving birth wasn't the most pleasant thought one could have.

But, they were still adults. They still had desires and dreams, and to have a child to carry on their selfish legacy was a must. So, around April, nine grueling months after the Mikados engaged in a heated love session, Mrs. Mikado's water broke.

No time was wasted getting the woman to the hospital. Immediately, she was received by nurses who moved her into the emergency room, and not any sooner her husband demanded to know how she was to be treated until the child was born.

"Well," the nurse began, fiddling with the clipboard, "she'll have lots of bouts of pain. It's just her uterus contracting. We'll call the doctor when it's time to birth the baby. She needs something to hold on and to bite during the birthing process, and some water, if she needs some."

Those instructions were duly noted, and the two salmon-haired spouses looked at each other, a sort of rare excitement in each other's eyes.

"I hope it's a girl. I've always adored little girls. They have better singing voices than guys."

Her husband frowned, and pushed the rim of his glasses higher. "Is that so? Perhaps. An intelligent male composer will also suffice. Oh, great God, Buddha, or whoever's up there, don't make this offspring tone deaf. That's the last thing we need."

Mrs. Mikado scoffed, and placed her pallid hands on her stomach. It rumbled, and made her insides queasy. To think, nine months of this uneasy sickness have passed, and now the ultimate level of pain would soon be reached. The soon-to-be mother clenched her fists, discouraged that her child might not live to be worth the trouble she'd eventually endure.

Convulsions, for example. Having a rather violent one, Mrs. Mikado cursed and hoped that this baby would be a hell of a singer for all she's going through.

* * *

"Push!"

"I _am!_"

Hours after arriving at the hospital, the moment of truth had come. Mrs. Mikado lay on the hospital bed, legs spread, one hand clutching the side rail, the other her husband, who had just a painful expression as she. A masking sweat shown on her face, and her eyes and brows were contorted into a drawn feature, showing her concentration and suffering.

"It's coming out! There's the head!"

"Thank god-did you hear that? Our baby's got a head-"

"_Shut up! _Oh God, is it out yet?!" The wife screamed, tightening her grip, which caused both the metal and man to squeak in agony.

"Almost! Almost there! Keep going!"

Another ear-piercing shriek, and a chorus of relieved happiness erupted from the doctor and surrounding nurses. Cutting off the cord and cleaning the small body, the doctor immediately brought the newborn child to the Mikados.

"Congratulations, you two. You have a lovely baby boy."

Any other moment, Mrs. Mikado would have been disappointed it wasn't a girl. But the relief of the prior pain was too great, and a smile caressed her face, as she fondled the baby in her arms. After a short discussion with the doctor, the married couple were left alone in the room for a reprieve of their own.

"A boy, huh. Looks like we'll get that composer after all."

"Or singer, if he's good enough." The husband added in, watching as the baby cried and screamed, only to be hushed by his mother's tone of voice.

"We're going to have to name him, you know."

"I know. Any suggestions?"

"We could name him Ren. Or Jin. Something short."

"..."

"Sweetie?"

"Shut up, I just gave birth. I'm exhausted."

The man gave a chaste laugh, before smoothing his wife and baby's hair. "Do you need a moment alone? Are you going to breastfeed him soon?"

"...I'm fine. Stay. I just came up with the name, too."

Wiping his glasses, Mr. Mikado gave a loving sigh, and looked at his wife with a newfound clarity. "Go ahead. What's our first son's name?"

Without any hesitation, Mrs. Mikado spoke up, proud and excited to name her son. She was a parent now, not just a wife. A mother, an adult, a real maternal figure. It showed in her voice. "Nagi. His name is Nagi."

* * *

It was nighttime, and somewhere else in the world, a little girl named Nanami, who was four or five at this time, was playing in the backyard of her grandmother's house. The cottage in the middle of the country, with abundance of flowers surrounding it, attracted fireflies in the dark of night. Little Haruka was laughing, and running around her grandmother in the field, where the two little women were chasing fireflies.

"Grandma! Grandma! Look, the fireflies are so pretty! Can we keep them?"

The elderly woman laughed, and smiled at her granddaughter with her crinkled eyes. "Of course. In a jar. But we have to let them out the next day, or else their parents will miss them."

"Will they? I don't want their parents to miss them," Haruka Nanami began, her voice wistful, "But what if they can't find their parents?"

"Well, then they'll look for their children. Because parents love children. That's why mommies and daddies have daughters and sons, Haruka." her grandmother assured, laughing as the child squeaked at a little lightning bug landing on her nose.

"Are there mommies and daddies having daughters and sons right now?" the meek child continued her string of questions, jumping at a firefly that escaped her small grip.

"Yes, there are." the woman continued, smiling up at the spring night air. It was cool, and the bright moon offered them a safe, homey haven in their own backyard. "There are many children being born this minute. Children that were born hours ago, years ago, or have yet to be born. They are out there, Haruka."

"Will I ever meet any of them?"

Looking surprised by this question in particular, Mrs. Nanami tried not to laugh in amusement. "Why, of course, dearie! You will meet many of them, some important, others not so much. But I know that whoever you'll meet, they'll never forget you."

With a yawn, Haruka had grown tired of the night's festivities, a combination of sickness and childish fatigue at play. "Okay, grandmom. Can we go back inside now?"

For the umpteenth time that night, the old woman smiled. "Of course, Haruka. Of course."

* * *

Some time after the birth of Nagi, the Mikados carried their son outside of the hospital grounds for the first time. It was late at night, and they would have been out sooner, had the parents been less strict and paranoid.

"Our own child, can you believe it? I hardly can. A young boy. I'll teach him how to play the violin, and you could teach him the piano! We'll have singing lessons everyday. Nagi will learn to read music before words. What a beautiful future, it is for us!" The mother cried out, her voice still somewhat shaky, but its vigor echoing out in the night sky.

"I can see it now. It will be great." the father agreed, opening the car door to place both the child and mother in the backseat. He took his position in the front, but staggered slightly. "Look at that, fireflies."

Mrs. Mikado looked out the open window, and indeed near the trees in the parking structure, were a swarm of lighted bugs, flying and shining like miniature flashlights. One wandered into the car itself, and landed on Nagi's nose, who energetically cried out in protest, making incoherent infant noises.

"Yes, fireflies, how wonderful. Let's get a move on. I could use my own bed for once," Mrs. Mikado joked coyly.

With that being said, Mr. Mikado entered the car, started the engine, and pulled from the driveway. Soon, the convertible was on the road, the only sounds being that of the engine and the concrete under the wheels, smoothing out a path.

A path to the future.


End file.
